


Aussie, Aussie, Aussie!

by kat_writes_stuff



Category: Team Fortress 2
Genre: Cricket, Friendship, Gen, Homesickness, Team Bonding, Water Guns, demo being too good for this world, heavy does the same to spy, just aussie things, sniper being sad, soldier and demo both say some #deep things to sniper, soldier being clueless about commonwealth stuff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-24
Updated: 2019-12-24
Packaged: 2021-02-26 07:01:28
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,279
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21939382
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kat_writes_stuff/pseuds/kat_writes_stuff
Summary: Living in the New Mexican Badlands is hard enough without the constant dying and fighting and, of all things, dancing in the desert with mercenaries (over gravel nonetheless), but one day it all becomes too much for Sniper when he starts to miss his parents and his life back in Australia. Sensing something is amiss, his two friends decide to cheer him up by dedicating half a day to some Aussie activities.
Comments: 9
Kudos: 47





	1. Aussie, Aussie, Aussie!

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Pyapya](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=Pyapya).



> Merry Smissmas Pyapya! I'm your gifter for this years Secret Santa! I saw your request for sniper, soldier, and demo doing fun Aussie stuff, and I just couldn't refuse. I hope you enjoy your Christmas, and a happy new year to you!

The sun shone down glaringly onto the rough terrain of the Badlands, providing little comfort to the sun-baked residents of Teufort. A little away from their cosy and safe town, the residents of the RED and BLU base were facing a similar predicament. The RED mercenaries were all doing their individual best to relieve the painstaking sensation of borderline heatstroke that the damned sun was giving them during their precious furlough. 

The BLU team… well, this isn’t their story. No reason we should feel the need to talk about them, right?

This is, however, the story of a particular Australian who was sitting in an outdoor folding chair in the shade of his camper van, wearing a stained wife-beater, shorts, and a hat which we will make fun of later on. 

“Ah fuck me.” Sniper muttered as the sun began to slowly and insidiously occupy the shade where he sat in with its horrible sweltering light.

It was times like this where he missed being in the Outback. The heat would’ve been worse, he’ll admit, but at least he could jump into a billabong to cool off. There was no water body for kilometres out here, and the entire RED team had been banned from entering the Teufort swimming complex after an event, which Scout dubs ‘The Penguin Incident’, had occurred. But that was a story for another day.

Sniper groaned and scooted closer to his van and away from the sunlight creeping into the shade.

He didn’t just miss being in the Outback. He missed the farm he grew up on, the sheeps and cows and chickens he had grown up with, his little hideouts when he needed a break from the bullies in school, his bedroom with its peeling walls and his old rifle which had nurtured his love for sniper rifles.

He missed his Mum and Dad, God, he _really_ missed his Mum and Dad. There were days where Sniper couldn’t even bring himself to talk to the latter, but he really did miss his parents.

Sniper wondered if they missed him. They would, wouldn’t they? Every parent would miss their child if they left home. But with every phone call he had with his parents, every angry, abrupt end to his calls with his Dad, every veiled heartache in his Mum’s words when he says he can’t make it home for the holidays, Sniper couldn’t help but wonder if his parents had grown used to his absence. The thought of it hurts him to no end, but once he started he couldn’t stop.

He was so busy feeling so many things at once that it almost sent him careening out of his chair when two resounding ‘snaps’ snapped by his ears.

“Gah!” He exclaimed, shaking his head. “What the bloody ‘ell was that for?” He directed the question to the perpetrators, which happened to be Demoman and Soldier. Soldier stood over the Australian, clearly pleased that his simple trick of snapping his fingers by Sniper’s ears had worked in bringing the Aussie back to reality. Either that or he was far too happy to see Sniper so disgruntled.

“We’ve been trying to get yer attention for about five minutes now, ye daft cunt,” Demo said in an awfully cheerful tone. “What’s on ye mind that made ye space out like that?”

“And what’s with the stupid hat, private?” Soldier butted in, flicking the red-and-white fluoro legionnaire cap that sat on Sniper’s head.

Sniper, who was starting to regain his composure, immediately jumped to answering Soldier’s frankly offensive question, “It ain’t stupid! It helps ta keep Satan’s hellish heat rays away from my face. It’s an Aussie thing,” he said before mumbling, “You wouldn’t get it.”

“Well then!” Demo grinned. “Why don’t ye show us how to ‘get it’, let’s do some Aussie stuff today!”

“Wait, what?”

“Mate, you’ve been doing nothing but baking out here in the sun for almost two days now. And even when the sun does goes down, all you do is skulk back to yer van like some hobgoblin,” Demo said.

“I’m guessing that whatever’s on ye mind’s been making you more of a vampire than usual, so Solly and I thought that it would be... _beneficial_ for your health if we took half a day off doing whatever ye want.” 

Sniper stared at his friends, dumbfounded. 

“You…” His eyes darted from the American to the Scotsman. “You really wanna spend the day doing what _I_ want?”

“No.” Soldier said.

“Yes.” Demo said.

“I mean, YES.” Soldier quickly corrected himself. Demo ignored him.

“No skin off our noses if we spend the day doing what you want, Mickey. You look like ye need a pick-me-up anyways.” Demo smiled again.

“Well… if ya really want to… I won’t stop you.” Sniper said, slowly feeling himself start to smile.

“Thanks guys, ‘ppreciate it.”

“Ah,” Demo waved him off. “What’re best mates for? Now, ye barmy Aussie, what Aussie things would ye like to enlighten us with first?” He asked, rubbing his hands together in anticipation.

Sniper was about to answer, when he suddenly remembered the other two legionnaire hats collecting dust in his van. He looked at the two men standing in front of him and instantly had a brilliant idea.

Well, it wouldn’t be Team Fortress if they didn’t wear some silly hats too, now would it?

* * *

The first game was cricket, which Demo and Sniper had a hard time playing because of how excruciating it was to teach Soldier when it came to playing the game properly. An hour passed, and they had yet to play a decent round.

“Mate, I’m just _sayin_ ’-”

“I hear what you are saying, private, but given that it’s _stupid_ I have used my right as a free American to ignore it! You will have to pry this helmet off of my cold, dead head!” Soldier exclaimed, brandishing the cricket bat in Sniper’s face.

Soldier, who was and is violently adamant in taking off his helmet, had opted to put his legionnaire hat on top of his M1, making the normally battle-crazy merc a lot goofier than he usually looks.

“Aw, come off it, Solly,” Demo grumbled loudly from where he stood, tossing the cricket ball from one hand to the other. Demoman, on the other hand, was rocking his legionnaire hat like it was nobody's business “It’s no fun if ye can’t even see the bloody ball comin’ at ye. Just take off yer helmet!”

“Lies and deception, lieutenant! I can see perfectly with my helmet on! God gave me TWO American eyes and I use them everyday! The same cannot be said for you, you one-eyed crossdresser!” 

“Save the insults for BLU, mate,” Sniper cut in just as Demo was about to throw the cricket ball directly into Soldier’s helmet-obscured face. “Since we aren’t getting anywhere, should we just move on to something else?”

“Affirmative!” Soldier saluted, letting the cricket bat fall to the floor noisily before he marched off to gather the equipment for their next activity.

“Guess rugby and football’s off the table.” Sniper said to no one in particular. Walking up to join Sniper, Demo let out an exasperated sigh. 

“Ye know, if I told me past self that I’d be friends with some barmy Yankee who doesn’t know the difference between where he stood and the moon, he’d just laugh and tell me to fuck right off.” He said, which promptly sent Sniper roaring with laughter.

* * *

Whatever doubt about his parents that had been festering in Sniper’s heart and mind dissipated almost instantly when they started their next activity, which was a good old-fashioned water fight. And much like his doubts, the once unbearable heat became a little more bearable as their battle to make each other as not-dry as possible began.

“FREEEEEDOM!” Demo crowed as he began to shoot streams of water in all directions all willy nilly, clearly indifferent about who gets caught in the cross-fire.

“SCREAMING EAGLES!” Soldier hollered as he launched a full frontal attack on Demoman.

“Strayaaaaa…?” Sniper tried to yell as he shot Soldier on the head, knocking off his fluoro legionnaire hat in the process. Soldier then let out a gasp so offended, Demo almost tripped over himself laughing.

“How DARE you private! You do not get to lay a hand or a droplet on MY hat! You will pay for this!” Soldier said, shaking his fists in the Australian’s direction as he picked up his sopping wet hat and slapped it back on his helmet.

“Gonna have to catch me first, mate!” Sniper smirked, dodging a stream of water that Soldier shot his way, but then failing to dodge Demo’s attack as the Australian got a full blast of water to the face.

“HAH! Never mess with the power of an Englishman in a dress!” Soldier cackled, before also getting a face full of water.

“I’m not English, ye daft cunt! And I _don’t_ wear a skirt!”

“I do not negotiate with the likes of Englishmen! Take THAT, tea drinker!” Soldier yelled as he shot Demo in the butt and in the ear.

“Oh, that’s it!’ Demo fumed, both his ear and butt dripping with water. “I’m gonna show ye why ye don’t mess with a Scotsman!”

Demo let out another war cry and started firing at Soldier, catching the American off guard and landing multiple hits to his chest. Never one to back down from a challenge, Soldier increased the intensity of his attacks tenfold and starting shooting Demo in the chest too.

They were so busy fighting each other, they didn’t see Sniper until it was too late.

Two well-aimed shots to the face sent the Scotsman and American tumbling to the ground, their singlets caked in sweat and mud.

Looming over them, Sniper tilted his legionnaire hat, smirking at his win and their loss, “Sorry mate, bushman’s rules.”

* * *

“Mickey…” Demo started, but before he could finish Soldier cut in for him.

“I have eaten many things, private, many things. While I was making gibs out of Nazis in Poland, I would eat grass, and NOT because I was out of rations! I once ate my own _boot_ in a POW camp because they tried to give me un-American food. I have eaten MANY things, but that,” Soldier pointed to the stick Sniper was holding which had cockroaches speared on them, freshly roasted. “Is the only thing I will NOT eat. I would rather shoot myself with my own rocket launcher than eat THAT.”

“Ditto.” Demo said.

“Aw c’mon ya big babies, you can kill the same people everyday but you won’t eat a roach?”

“YES.”

“Blowin’ stuff up s’ better than eating bugs, mate.”

“Cockroaches have lots of protein, ya know. Back when I was still trackin’ game in the desert, it was these guys that became my snacks while I was baking in the Outback. They’re fairly tasty too.”

“Mate, they could taste like bloody chocolates for all I care, ye still won’t find me chowing them down.”

“Agreed. So put that stick down, private, and back away, _slowly_.”

“Well if you guys don’t want it, I want it.”

“Jesus Christ, I hope yer not saying what I think yer saying.”

“Can’t waste a perfectly good snack, now can I?”

“STOP. Put that stick down private, that is an ORDER.”

“Mickey - ye nasty fucker - _DON’T_ -”

_“NOOOOOOOO!”_

Never has the Badlands desert heard a more disgusted and revolted cacophony of cries than that fateful day on the RED base.

* * *

And so, tuckered out and dirty from teaching Soldier cricket, drenched in stale hose-water from the water fight, and possibly scarred from Sniper eating desert vermin, the three men plopped themselves down on one of the logs that surrounded the base campfire and sat in comfortable silence.

In a few moments, Sniper brought it upon himself to speak his mind, “Earlier on, when ya asked me what was on my mind, I was thinkin’ of my parents.”

“Ye Dad givin’ you a hard time?”

“Nah. Well, kind of, but also not really.”

“Do not mix up your words, private! Is your father giving you a hard time or not?”

Sniper took a moment to answer. “No. He’s not.”

“Then what seems to be the problem?”

“I dunno,” Sniper muttered, suddenly feeling embarrassed by the sudden attention. “Just a bit of homesickness, I guess? S’ why I felt glad when the two of you said ya wanted to do Aussie things today.”

“And yer parents?”

“I was just... _scared_ ,” Sniper admitted. “Scared that they would get used to me not being around to take care of them. I know it sounds silly, but I’m scared of them not wanting me around anymore. I wasn’t close to my Dad when I left to become an assassin, and we’re not any closer now. Just some self-doubt about myself... so… yeah.” Sniper said, awkwardly scratching the back of his neck

There was silence. And then Soldier piped up, “ _I_ don’t think it’s stupid.”

The other two men turned to face the American, mildly surprised by his words. Soldier’s eyes, which were still helmet-obscured, stared directly at Sniper.

“I don’t think it’s stupid to have those thoughts.” He turned away from them to face the dirt, his voice quieter than he would have wanted it to be.

“In this war, we spend so much time fighting and dying that sometimes we forget about the world we have outside this gravel war. You worrying about your parents and being able to do your job here means that you found a way to balance both parts of your life, even if you don’t see it that way.” 

“Your parents care about you, private,” Soldier added, a bit more gruffly. “It’s just a matter of whether or not you want to let the demons in your head tell you otherwise.”

“I agree with Solly.” Demo spoke up.

“I wish I had had a better relationship with my Da before he passed away, aye, there are times where this job makes it difficult for me to visit me Mum. There’s never a day that goes by where I don’t think about them. But ye know what keeps me going, lad?”

Sniper shook his head.

“What keeps me going is my unwavering faith in myself. Faith that I _am_ a good son and a more-than-satisfactory member of the DeGroot lineage. Do me a favour, mate, have faith in yourself too. It’s the least ye can do for yer parents. They wouldn’t want to see ye so down about yerself when they already know that ye’ve been a good son to them.”

Sniper nodded, blinking away the tears that pricked the corner of his eyes. 

“Yeah, I will. Thanks, mates.” Sniper chuckled, a grin spreading across his face.

“Och, come _here_ you two!” Demo exclaimed, hooking his arms around Soldier and Sniper and bringing them closer. 

‘Look at us, bonding with each other. I love you guys! I want this to last forever.”

“Dunno if _I_ can last mate, I’ve been trying real hard, but Soldier’s stupid hats’ chippin’ away at me defenses.” Sniper snickered, pointing to Soldier’s hats.

“I’ll have you know, Sniper, these hats have been EXEMPLARY in keeping my American skin safe from the sun! I might even have to bring them to battle next week! And the week after! And the week after that! I may never part from these hats ever again!” Soldier declared, giving a thumbs-up for further emphasis.

Demo and Sniper wheezed with laughter at his seriousness, clutching their sides as all three of them laughed at the absurdity of their situation. As they chuckled amongst themselves, unbeknownst to them, a certain Frenchman had been observing their every action on the front porch of their base.

Quiet as a shadow, Spy smoked his cigarette and watched the three filthy men laugh at each other, still cloaked. He had known that Sniper was facing homesickness, the signs were obvious. But what had shocked Spy was how easily the bushman had gotten over it with just half a day of nonsense with Demoman and Soldier. If failing at cricket, shooting water at each other and eating bugs was really the way to cure homesickness then maybe Spy would want to be homesick for the rest of his life.

“Spy has been out here for a long time. Anything wrong?” A sudden Russian appeared on the porch, momentarily startling the Frenchman.

Spy took a moment to compose himself first before uncloaking, turning to Heavy, “You know, most people greet each other before they start a conversation.”

Heavy raised an eyebrow. “I see. And Spy practices this often, yes?”

The humour in his tone was hard to miss, and Spy couldn’t help but smile, “Touché.”

Heavy chuckled to himself, leaning on the balcony of the porch. His small but sharp eyes followed Spy’s eye-line to the trio, and a faint rumble of laughter rose in his chest at the sight.

“What’s so funny, my large friend?” Spy asked.

“Nothing. Is good to see Sniper opening up to teammates. Was worried little man would feel like outcast, but it seems like he is doing fine.”

“And I suppose you worry a lot for the people on this team?” 

Heavy shrugged. “Heavy has three younger sisters and mother back in Russia. Is normal for me to worry about others.”

“I see.” Spy said.

“I would be interested to see what your take is on this… cathartic form of release for our dear bushman.” Spy continued, shooting Heavy a meaningful look. 

“If you don’t mind, of course.”

Heavy thought about it for a moment, turning to survey the scene once more. Now the trio were chanting drinking songs without actually being drunk or having drinks near them, their arms were clasped around each other as they swayed from side to side on the log. To a stranger, they might have looked like old friends.

“Camaraderie has way of fixing people. There are many who find peace being with friends, and there are many more whose lives revolve around friendship. It is powerful thing, and can turn the most cowardly of people to the bravest of men.”

Spy exhaled a cloud of smoke, silently waiting for Heavy to continue.

“We are mercenaries, we die everyday and fight everyday. Yes, we kill for money. But a camaraderie forged on the friendships between men that can never die and are not scared of anything, is truly a camaraderie that will last a long time and can be stronger than anything money can buy.” Heavy finished. Spy chuckled to himself.

“Your way with words never ceases to impress me,” Spy finally said, “It’s a wonder you’re still unmarried with a brain like yours.”

Heavy shrugged again. “People judge by appearance, not by knowledge. Cannot be helped.”

“I suppose.” Spy let his cigarette fall and stubbed it out with his foot.

“Thank you for your insight, it was useful to me. I suppose now I must return to my quarters for the night. Maybe my room will be cooler than standing out here in this heat. _Bonne nuit_ , Heavy.”

“Da. I must sleep soon too. Goodnight, Spy.”

The two parted ways and retreated to their rooms, letting the sound of three sober men sing their drinking songs echo into the night, forging a friendship stronger than even Australium.

End.


	2. Aussie, Aussie, Aussie (Art Piece)

Surprise! Not only do you get a fic, you get an art piece too! My digital art skills are a bit rusty, but nonetheless, I had a lot of fun drawing this. Thank you for being a part of this fandom, and have a happy new year!


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